Just a Kiss Away

by Jill Barnett

  He felt another thread give way and smiled. It wouldn’t take much longer.

  The villagers milled around and soon began to form lines, leaving a wide open path in front of him. Some of the men who’d been with Mojala used bamboo poles to mark off sections in the dirt. He slowed his rubbing until he was sure what he was doing was undetectable, and he watched them, trying to determine what the circles and lines were for.

  Five carabao were led to the far end of what Sam now realized was an arena. The king and his entourage walked through the crowd to the beat of the village gong. In the entourage were the king’s five daughters, and pulling up the rear was the sixth, the golden princess herself, Lollie LaRue.

  Still dressed in the native wraps of brightly striped cloth, she spoke to that Oku woman as they walked along. As if beckoned, she looked at Sam, her face worried. She left the line and walked over to him.

  “I only have a moment,” she whispered. “But don’t worry, Sam, I’m gonna save you.”

  “What is going on?” He nodded at the dirt arena. “Some kind of tournament. I have to win each event and then you’ll be free, sort of.”

  “What do you mean, ‘sort of?”

  “I have to go; Oku’s waving me over.” She hurried away, but stopped and turned. “Don’t worry, Sam. I know I can do it. I’m not gonna fail.” Her chin went up, and her face was so serious, so determined, that he almost laughed, but another small part of him—a foolish part of him—believed her. It didn’t matter now, though, because at that moment he managed to break the ropes. All he needed was a distraction and a chance to grab Lollie.

  Sam waited for the right moment.

  Ten minutes later Lollie’s bottom smacked down hard on the ridged back of her galloping carabao. She gripped the rope around the beast’s horns, locked her feet under its neck, and held on for dear life as she thundered past the others. She didn’t dare look at Sam or at Oku, who had been her prodder—the person who slapped the animal at the start of the race.

  The animal’s hooves pounded, and her small body jolted up and down, but she held the rope so tightly that she didn’t think a crowbar could have pried it away. In the distance she could hear the cheers of the villagers, but her animal bounded by them so fast she couldn’t see anything but a blur of color. Lordy, but these beasts could run when they wanted to.

  A roar echoed around her, and the animal suddenly skidded to a stop so fast she almost flew over the horns. When she could focus again, she shook her head to clear it. In a wink two natives pulled her off, and she was on solid ground before the other animals had lumbered over the line. The last daughter across the line, a young girl who looked to be only fifteen, was eliminated. According to Oku, the subsequent games would be the same—one contestant eliminated per event.

  “Not bloody bad. You stayed on!” Oku said, running up to Lollie, who still swayed a little, and hugging her.

  Lollie pushed her hair from her face. “I never knew they could lope like that.”

  Oku mumbled something.

  “What?” Lollie asked.

  “Nothing.” Oku stuck her hand in her pocket and looked away.

  “I won, didn’t I?” Lollie hugged Oku again.

  The old woman grinned. “You bloody did.” Then she patted Lollie on the back.

  “Ouch!” Lollie jumped back, then turned and grabbed Oku’s hand. She turned it over and there was a long, sharp needle poking out from the woman’s palm. The needle was attached to a string around her finger. Lollie frowned at her.

  Oku closed her fist and hid it behind her back. “It got the bloody beast running, now, didn’t it?”

  “Did you cheat?”

  “No. I bloomin’ prodded, just like I was supposed to.” Oku’s face took on a stubborn look.

  Lollie glanced over at Sam. He looked surprised. She smiled, tilted her head a notch higher, and gave him a wave that said “I did it!” He didn’t have to know about the needle, especially since this was a matter of life and death, his.

  There were three more games. In the one called pindutan, or hand-squeezing, Lollie came in second but managed to stay in the running. The oldest daughter, Mari, squeezed so hard she almost broke Lollie’s fingers. Man was the prettiest of the king’s natural daughters, and she really wanted Sam. That awareness alone gave Lollie the stamina to hold out.

  It also enabled her to win the next contest, something called San Juan, a game of mud-throwing. She wanted to hit the other woman with mud so badly that she kept her eyes open and, remembering Sam’s advice, she aimed three feet to the left. Lollie hit her every time.

  After being allowed to clean up—Oku had been right there with water and cloths and encouragement for Lollie they were seated for buwal pare, the second to the last game. She’d been worried about this one, not having any idea what it was, and knowing that the two remaining daughters had experience on their side. She sat there and remembered all the times Sam had rescued her, telling herself that now it was her turn to help him and that she could do this, whatever it was, no matter how difficult.

  The king strolled over and dropped a handful of sticks on the tabletop. Lollie smiled. Her chances of winning had just increased tenfold. The game was the native equivalent of pickup sticks, something she’d played for long, lonely hours in the Hickory House nursery. It was one of the few games a child could play alone.

  She won that event, too.

  Three down, one more to go.

  Mari and Lollie stood waiting. This would be the last game. Oku came forward to explain to Lollie what she had to do. The old woman had a small box in her hand. She handed it to her with the explanation. Lollie opened the box. It was all she could do not to drop the box and scream. She slammed the lid shut. The box held a cockroach, which she had to race by making noises and tickling its underside to make it scuttle forward.

  “Oku, I can’t do this,” she whispered.

  “Then Mari will get Sam,” Oku said matter-of-factly.

  Lollie followed Oku’s gaze to where the last daughter stood. She was absolutely the most beautiful girl Lollie had ever seen. She had straight hair that swayed down to the backs of her knees and shone like black jet. Lollie touched the ragged ends of her burned hair and sighed. Mari was tall and slim, and she had a bigger bosom. The conversation between Jim and Sam flashed through her mind. She promptly marched over to the starting line.

  The two women knelt at their places, holding the boxes with the bugs. Lollie looked up at Sam. He was talking to Oku and his shaking his head. She wondered if they were talking about her.

  Sam probably believed she couldn’t do it. Her mind flashed with the image of the rice bowl sitting on his angry head, and she had to admit he had good reason, a baptism by rice so to speak. But that had been weeks before. That Lollie LaRue was gone, she hoped.

  She took the lid off the box and scowled at the thing. It was brown and black and just as ugly as sin. A native stood nearby with a spear. When the spear dropped, the race would start. Lollie looked at Mari, who fingered her bug, stroking it as if it were treasured pet.

  Lollie’s stomach tightened, and chills raced down her arms. The cockroaches were just awful.

  The spear dropped. Man tickled her bug and whistled and coaxed it along. Lollie took a deep breath, squeezed her eyes shut and touched the cockroach’s underside. It scurried over her finger.

  She screamed loud enough to crack heaven. Her bug flew right past Mari’s.

  Lollie’s shriek finally faded into a groan. Her shaking stopped. She opened her eyes to see her brown and black bug crawling in the dirt a good three feet past the finish line. She’d won again, and she’d saved Sam.

  The natives closed in, carrying her along with the crowd. She laughed and smiled. She was so excited. She’d done it! Pushing and digging her way through the natives, she worked her way toward him, shouting his name, “Sam! Sam!”

  She reached the end of the crowd and squeezed through, a proud smile on her face.

  Sam was gon
e.

  Chapter 27

  Lollie looked at Oku, who practically dragged her down some steep, primitive steps that had been cut into the gorge. “Where are you taking me?”

  “Awk! Quiet! You bloomin’ little pecker!” Medusa was perched on Oku’s head.

  “Shh, Medusa!” Lollie glared at Oku’s back. “I see she’s picked up a new voice.”

  “Keep that bloody pigeon quiet. We’re almost there.” Oku yanked even harder on Lollie’s hand as they ran down what must have been a thousand steps. “Mojala’s got them all worked up. You bloody need to get out now.”

  Lollie followed Oku down the rocky steps, looking toward the bottom of the gorge. Soon she could see the river below, coming closer and closer, and a small rock landing, and a native boat.

  Sam stood on the rock landing, pacing. He glanced up and stopped. “Get the lead out!”

  “Awk! Sam’s here. Get a shovel fer the bloomin’ little pecker!”

  “Goddamn bird,” Sam muttered.

  Lollie tried to stop, but Oku dragged her across the flat granite rock. Before she could blink, Sam had lifted her into the boat.

  “It took you long enough. And couldn’t you leave the damn bird behind?” Sam said, scowling at her before he turned and unhooked a rope that moored the boat.

  “ ‘Ere.” Oku leaned over and handed Sam something. “Better keep yer prized possessions a little closer to yer ‘eart. Don’t gamble with what you don’t want to lose, if you get me drift.”

  Oku had given Sam back his glass eye. He put it in the pouch. “Thanks.” He turned and gave Lollie a long, odd look, then grabbed the oar. “I get it, old woman.”

  He scowled at Lollie. “Will you sit the hell down so we can get out of here?” He turned back to do something.

  Lollie stood there, stunned and wondering what right he had to be angry. She should be angry after going through all those awful games to save him, when all the time he’d been able to escape. And he hadn’t even seen her win the last one. She shivered, still feeling that horrid bug. Then she thought about his face—angry, trying to intimidate her, all bossy male arrogance.

  He turned around.

  She punched him in the jaw, hard.

  “Dammit to hell!”

  The boat wobbled and tipped, and both Sam and Lollie fell into the water. She started to move her arms the way Sam had taught her, but he grabbed her clothes and pulled her over to the landing. He hauled her onto the rock ledge, none too gently, and flipped the boat over.

  “Get in . . . now.” He was mad.

  Well, she wasn’t too happy with him, either. She stuck her nose up and stepped into the boat.

  “Sit down!” He shook the water from his head and got in, too. He glared at her. She glared right back.

  “ ‘Ave yer bloody fight later. Go!” Oku shouted, then pointed up to where a large number of natives with torches were running down the steps.

  Lollie took Medusa from Oku and sat, but gave Sam her most scathing look.

  He shoved off.

  She turned to the old woman, wanting to thank her, to say something, but not good-bye. “Will you be all right?” She pointed at the approaching natives.

  Oku grinned and waved them on. “Them won’t ‘urt me.” She laughed. “I’m the bloomin’ king’s mother!” She blew Lollie a kiss and waved as the boat caught the current and drifted downstream.

  Half an hour later, Medusa was perched on the rim of the drifting boat, singing “Britannia Rules the Waves.” Sam and Lollie sat at opposite ends of the boat, each trying to outglare the other. Lollie felt she was winning.

  Sam lolled against the bow of the boat, his arms hooked over the rim of the bow, his long legs stretched out in front of him, and his boots resting on the small plank seat in the center of the wooden boat. He reached up and rubbed his dark, stubbly jaw and eyed her.

  “I hope it hurts.” She stuck her nose up and looked away.

  “Why the hell are you so mad?”

  “Because I saved you!”

  “So.”

  She slowly turned back to face him. “So? So? Your backside isn’t throbbing from riding one of those . . . those horned cows. You didn’t have your hand crushed by some love-struck native girl. You didn’t have mud flung at you and natives yelling at you. You damn Yankee, you! You didn’t have to tickle a horrid cockroach!” She shivered.

  “Are you through?” He hadn’t moved, hadn’t flinched, just sat there, grinning.

  “No! I hate you, Sam. I really do.”

  “Then why did you save me?” He looked as if he was really enjoying this, which made her even madder. “Because I thought you needed saving for a change!”

  “I suppose I did.”

  “No, you didn’t, you damn Yankee. I fought for you and you’d already gotten free by the time I’d won.”

  “Awk! Damn Yankee!”

  “Shhh! Quiet, Medusa.” She frowned. “How did you get free?”

  “I rubbed the ropes against the bamboo until they tore through.”

  “You didn’t think I could do it, did you? I was trying too hard, concentrating just like you said, fighting the way you’d told me to, and all the while you didn’t think I could do it.”

  “Now, Lollie—”

  “Don’t you ‘now Lollie’ me, you . . . you—” She stopped, her attention caught by a distant sound. She peered over his shoulder. “Sam?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Is that a waterfall we’re heading for?”

  He shot upright, his head whipping around. “Oh, shit!” He grabbed an oar and rammed it into the water, trying to take the boat out of the current. “Grab the other oar and try to slow the boat down!”

  She stuck the oar in the water. The current was so strong it took every ounce of strength to hold the oar straight. The water pushed and pulled, and the boat would start to slow, then suddenly pick up speed. Every time that happened Sam swore.

  The river was long and rushing faster and faster, the roar of falling water grew louder and a massive waterfall, as wide as the native village, lay in the distance. The boat rocked and reeled—the same motions that always made her sick. This time she was too scared to be sick.

  Sam’s oar broke with a piercing crack. He swore, threw it in the river, and grabbed her oar. A few seconds later it broke, too. He just stared at the falls.

  “Sam?”

  “What?”

  “Are we gonna die?”

  He turned back, sat down, and looked at her. The boat picked up speed. “I can’t get us out of this one, Lollipop.”

  She looked at Medusa and held out her hand for the bird to step onto. “You sweet bird . . .”

  Sam snorted.

  She ignored him and lifted the mynah bird high. “Go! Fly back to Jim, Medusa.” She tossed the bird up, and it flew up, higher and higher. Then it circled and flew off into the trees.

  Lollie looked at Sam for a long moment. They were gonna die, and he sat there, opposite her, no sign of emotion on his hard, handsome face. She wondered what he was thinking. “Sam?”

  “What?”

  “I love you.”

  He closed his eye and looked down briefly.

  “I’m sorry I hit you.”

  “Lollie . . . I—”

  The current grew so strong the boat whipped ahead. “You what?” She held the sides of the boat.

  He took a deep, resolved breath. “I was wrong. It wasn’t just good sex. I only said that to stop the whole thing before it went too far. We’re too different, you and I. I’m a mongrel, a slum mongrel. You’re show stock.”

  “I don’t care, Sam. I love you.”

  The boat dipped and swirled. His hands gripped the rim of the boat until his knuckles were white. His gaze never left her face. “Yeah. Me, too.”

  She looked at him. “Do you mean it?”

  The boat spun again, and she held on tighter, needing to hear his answer.

  “Yeah.”

  “Oh, Sam. I needed you.”

>   He laughed in that sardonic way of his. “You sure did. I’ve never met anyone who needed saving as much as you.” He paused, looked at the water for an uncomfortable moment, and admitted, “I was jealous.”

  “Good.” She smiled. Then her smile faded as she remembered something she’d wanted so badly. “I dreamed of having your children, Sam.”

  “Aw crap, Lollie, I told you I’m not a hero in a romance novel. I can’t say that stuff to you.”

  “I love you, Sam!” She had to shout over the roar of the water.

  He didn’t say anything.

  “Say something, please! We’re gonna die!” she screamed at him.

  He took a deep breath and yelled, “I lost my eye when I was a prisoner during a rebellion in Angola. I was twenty-five years old, and I’d been sent by the army to Angola to fight. I got caught. They tortured me to get the whereabouts of a rebel leader who was being protected by the United States. I wouldn’t tell them. They took out an eye before anyone could get me out. No one knew the U.S. was involved. Jim got me out, against orders.” He didn’t look at her.

  “I still love you, Sam!”

  “Dammit . . .” He sounded angry. With a deep breath of resignation he looked at her. “I’d have given you those kids.”

  “What?”

  “I said I’d have given you those kids!” He moved closer to her and touched her cheek.

  “I wanted you to love me again,” she admitted, “like that night in the cave.”

  He gave her a slow, lazy smile. “I wanted to . . . more.”

  “Oh, Sam.” She covered his hand with her own. “I wanted your face be the last one I saw every night, and I wanted to wake up every morning in your arms.”